Thread Across the Stars
by Judgey Fish Caretaker
Summary: While running an errand for the New Republic, Ben Solo, Chewbacca, and his father find themselves trapped on a desert wasteland due to the usual antics of their old Corellian freighter. What is not usual, however, is who they meet. All is as the Force wills it to be, including the galaxy's persistent red string of fate. [au reylo/4-part series] COMPLETE
1. I

**A/N:** Whoahhh *trips and falls into writing another Reylo ficlet* Oops!

This outline has been sitting on my laptop for some time. After writing a few canon compliant fics, I decided to explore an AU scenario - still the same galaxy, however.

Two or three parts depending on how long my next portion runs with its pacing.

Enjoy! xox

* * *

 _All is as the Force wills it_

* * *

Ben Solo gawked at the scene laid out in front of him: endless, barren scenes of sand, sand, and – as one would guess - _more_ sand. The landscape, or lack thereof, went on for as far as the human eye could see. Even from the comfort of the cockpit, he felt his mood turn sour by the sudden inconvenience.

 _Kriff._ This really was a shithole.

"Alright." His father piped up in the pilot's seat in front of Ben. The tone was tired, on the brink of exasperated, but didn't sound at all surprised. "Let's see what the problem is, kid."

Despite now being a 29 year-old grown man, Ben did not expect "kid" was going anywhere anytime soon. He had accepted this fact long ago.

"Here, Dad. Let me go look-"

"No, I got this. You stay here."

Ben watched as his father stubbornly lifted his aging figure by gripping the two front cockpit seats, one of which his co-pilot of over four decades currently occupied, before heading to the hyperdrive chamber. Whether or not the legendary Han Solo would accept his own seniority, well, that was an entirely different story. Chewbacca and Ben observed his retreating figure before they joined their gazes in mutual understanding. Chewbacca gave out a soft series of growls, translated into more or less _I know_ in Basic. Ben sighed in defeat. The man was too proud.

Disobeying instruction, Ben unfastened his safety belt and shuffled out after his father. He had just about rounded the corner before his ears were accosted by a string of cuss words that would have made the lowest of Tattooine junk dealers blush.

"Blasted piece of-" Han gave a hard kick to the paneled wall of the corridor. "The damn hyperdrive generator is busted - _again_. It could take us _weeks_ to get to nearest system!"

Growing up, there were three truths Ben had come to understand: Without a doubt, his mother always has the last word. If it came down between him and Chewbacca, the wookiee had claim to the co-pilot seat.

And, last and probably the most common, the Millennium Falcon was never short of needing repairs.

Though less eruptive, Ben shared in his father's frustration. The medical aid they were responsible for delivering to Rattatak had them put in a bit of a time constraint and their present situation was a definite drawback. A planet subjected to years of unrest, exploited for slavery, and caught in decades worth of war violence was finally on the upsurge and the New Republic was counting on the success of this humanitarian mission by their best pilot to extend their peace and ever growing influence.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Han rested his hand on his hip while the other explored his lower chin in thought. He muttered to himself as though he did not realize Ben had joined him. "Looks like we'll have to go to the nearest settlement and try our luck there – otherwise, it could be awhile. Chewie will watch the Falcon-"

"There's a nearest settlement?" Ben asked dubiously, thinking back to the lifeless wasteland had just seen outside.

"Niima Outpost. It's the only encampment in these parts that has a navigational beacon." Han explained. "But don't let the access to tech fool you – it's seediest trading post out there, ridden with crime and low lives…" His father interrupted his own warning as if a sudden realization washed over him.

Han Solo looked at his son with new, pleading eyes. "Please don't tell your mother."

Ben would never. He was far too frightened to anger a senator.

…

Ever since his mother deemed he was old enough – his father had tried to be a bit _too_ lenient with what was an appropriate age - Ben had traveled to countless planets and moons on assignments granted to his father by the Republic. It turns out that the skills gained by being a notorious reformed smuggler and a Rebellion general translated nicely into relief mission work, including but not limited to transporting precious cargo from one side of the galaxy to the other.

These experiences provided Ben with a considerably broad understanding of the galaxy and its diverse inhabitants. But Niima Outpost? He had never seen anything quite like this before. For once his father had not been exaggerating. Despite its residency since the years following the fall of the Empire, the outpost's minimal structures lacked a certain level of permanency that one would find in more established trading settlements. Here there were hardly completed buildings at all: just a series of skeletal frameworks housing various open aired spaces. Much to Ben's disappointment after trekking a ways across Jakku's unforgiving surface, the majority of them appeared to hardly give relief from the planet's harsh environmental elements. The solace of shade was merely presented in the forms of gnarled, repurposed metal and thin fabrics that were at the mercy of a scorching breeze.

As mismatched as the buildings were that made up the settlement were those who bustled about in it. Species from every corner of the galaxy seemed to dwell here, shuffling about their business with their nets and rucksacks weighed down by salvaged materials. The outpost was a swarm of blurred activity that it was nearly impossible for Ben to observe it all in a single glance.

"Stay close." His father's hushed command brought Ben's attention momentarily before his eyes were eventually drawn to an elderly human woman sitting a handful of meters away. She was clad in thick garments that covered her from head to toe, surely with the intention to shield her from the severe sun. She was too concentrated at the task at hand to notice Ben's keen observation, scrubbing a rag rigorously over the bit of hardware on her table. The leathery, worn skin pulled tautly over her tired knuckles was as aged and brittle as the pieces she desperately attempted to shine. He found himself mesmerized.

Then there was a _whisper_.

It floated so gently across his consciousness that Ben had a hard time discerning if the source was from somewhere in his surroundings or, even more puzzling, somewhere from within him. It spoke no distinguishable words but somehow commanded his attention amidst the clamorous flurry of the outpost. With little hesitation, he moved his gaze in the direction it so urgently guided him.

His breath caught in his chest.

A woman stood across the way chattering eagerly with an elderly Pa'lowick gesturing wildly beside her, engaged in their pleasantries. In response to something the female amphibian said, she threw back her head in easy laughter that carried across the bustling outpost, which had become now all but white noise to Ben. A loose, muted shawl used to shield her head from the overbearing sun shifted ever so slightly to reveal dark hair underneath, escaping in light wisps that framed her kind face. In addition to her youth, her attire also drastically contrasted to her seated companion who donned frayed garments similar to that of the previous elderly human. Instead, her thin figure was dressed in a modest flight suit of deep maroon, her hips flanked with a plain satchel on one and a helmet resting at the other – which, from a quick glance, Ben recognized as a repurposed Rebel one that had been since painted with imagery of her own. Though her suit clearly timeworn and second hand, she stood out amongst the locals with an individual brightness that was more radiant than even the most intense glare of the surrounding landscape.

An unusual sensation crept up from deep inside Ben. He swallowed hard, only to find his mouth had since grown dry. Ben Solo was not a stranger to the advances of beautiful women and the pursuit of attractive companions (maybe not as quite as notorious as his father -but still- he had his fair share); however, no one had ever captured his attention quite like this. He was unable to ignore the inexplicable tug on his consciousness, a strange feeling of _knowing_ as though his mind was wrestling with a memory. But how? He had surely never seen this woman before. He continued to watch as she consciously angled herself towards the seated junk merchant, her hands moving animatedly in conversation. Ben was left captivated.

As if suddenly sensing she was being watched, the woman jerked her attention in his direction and forced Ben to abruptly break his trance. _Dammit_. He could feel her eyes bore into him but he hastily avoided her gaze, his own eyes now focused upwards at the unimpressive awnings above: an overall poor attempt to appear preoccupied. He silently willed the flush of color that threatened to crawl up his neck and above his collar to stay put, lest he be exposed. He felt as foolish as a guilty youngling caught by a parent with a hand in a box of warra nut cookies before dinner. _Real smooth, Solo._

"Ben, quit wasting time." Han's gruff voice cut through Ben's self-ridicule. As he followed his father further into the outpost, he boldly stole a final side-glance. Much to his chagrin, she had all but disappeared.

Ben did not have much time to mourn his missed connection as he and his farther approached the center of Niima Outpost. There stood what appeared to be one of the outpost's few permanent structures: an awning-roofed blockhouse crafted from rusted, repurposed hulls of dismantled ships. Despite its unimpressive appearance, it was undeniably the junykard settlement's focal point from which all activity orbited around. From a sweeping glance, it did not take long for Ben to understand the order of business around these parts either. Salvaged parts were dragged in from the outside, buffed and shined, all in preparation to be handed over to a creature so grotesque looking that Ben found it difficult not to stare. He watched on as it considered each of the scavengers' offerings one by one, determining their worth by producing as many or as little colorless ration packets as deemed fit. Ben had a difficult time deciding what was causing his stomach to churn: the junk boss' repulsive appearance or the sheer lack of an ethical standard, allowing corruption to thrive in its wake.

The stout, amorphous form studied the pair of them as approached the blockhouse's counter from the other side of a barred window, its beady black eyes leering greedily from underneath drooping, fleshy brows. Just out of reach from the sun's scorching blaze, Ben could not help but observe from this close proximity how its skin's mucous sheen glistened a pale pink. It must have liked what he saw as confirmed by its pulled back moistened upper lip, revealing a jagged set of teeth in what Ben assumed to be an attempted grin.

"What can I do for you fellas?" Its gravely voice sneered, not so subtlety eyeing up Ben's tailor-made leather jacket.

"Pretty basic stuff." His father started off with a tone Ben was all too familiar with. Confident, smooth, and never too eager - as to not disclose their current predicament. Desperate beings meant dollar signs. "Want some assistance with a little more pep for a Correllian YT-1300 stock hyperdrive – Class 1 series." Ben maintained a stoic expression, however, a smirk threatened a tug on the corner of his lips. His father had that hyperdrive rigged for _years_. Class 1? More like Class 0.5 – twice as fast as most warships the Galaxy had ever seen. Clearly his father was only modest about his freighter when there was an ulterior motive involved. "I'm looking to purchase some power cells that may have been scavenged in these parts." His father rolled his shoulders back, nonchalantly placing his hands on his hips. _Want_ , Ben mused at the verbiage, not _need_. "Heard you haven't been short of a supply since the Battle."

The junk boss eyes flitted to the ex-smuggler's belt as if something caught its attention for a brief moment before meeting his anticipating gaze. An identifiable smugness had seeped into its features before it finally replied. "That'll be twenty-thousand credits for the lot of them."

The words had barely flapped out of its mouth before his father's words cut through the air. "How _much_?!" Suaveness had exited the gangplank and impatience was simmering just underneath his cool demeanor, fast approaching his boiling point. Ben instinctively winced. Having been on the receiving end of a scolding or two from Han Solo, experience told him this would not end well.

The blob did not budge. "I said what I meant. Twenty-thousand credits for the power cells." Propping itself on one of its flubbery arms, it leaned towards Han in challenge. "If you don't have the money, might I suggest a new occupation for the time being…" It gestured towards the weary scavengers in line behind them and the others working diligently at their tables. "Sounds like you may be here awhile." It remarked before giving a bellowing laugh at its own cleverness. Ben was ready to intercept and prevent his father testing the infrastructure of the barbed window before a shout interrupted their heated exchange.

" _Unkar Plutt_!"

The junk boss reacted to the title by jerking its attention towards the nearing voice. (Look at that - so it did have a name.) Ben also turned his head to catch a glimpse of their guardian before a familiar feeling hitched inside of his chest: Her.

The young woman stomped up to the blockhouse's window with purpose without so much as a glance in his and his father's direction - there was a determined fury in her expression directed solely at the scum who hid behind the bars.

"I could have sworn a handful of power cells were no more than 1,200 credits a piece last week when sold to those Bimmisaari pilots just two days ago." She began pointedly, her inflection tinged with sarcasm. Everyone within earshot fell into a tense silence, straining to listen. With a planet so devoid of culture, one could not blame its inhabitants for seeking entertainment in whatever way they could. "Supply low? Not at all surprised – I've seen your cronies' technique. I'd about trust a Bantha to set my grandmother's table before having them handle any parts worth a damn."

She paused to let the insult hang in the air before darting her eyes over to Ben and Han. She observed them for a moment, a brief assessment before turning back to the junkboss, who was now visibly uneasy from the undesired attention. She narrowed her eyed before dryly adding "Or are your gauged prices for low quality goods specially reserved for representatives of the Republic?"

At her bold accusation, the line of scavengers buzzed with mutterings and whispers. Ben did not turn around to join them, keeping his eyes focused on her. While he should have been concerned over how he and his father were identified when they have prided themselves on discreetness in the past, he was completely enthralled by this impassioned individual. Her scarf that had previously draped over her head now hung loose over her shoulders - revealing more of her dark hair pulled back in a plait on the back of her head, streaked with lightened strands from extended exposure to the sun. From this distance, Ben could even observe the light, scattered freckles splashed across her cheeks: constellations against a gold sky.

However, it was her fiery stare that called Ben back to he and his father's current circumstance. He caught his father's eye who, to his slight surprise, looked just as baffled as to how to proceed. Admittedly, neither of them were well versed in junkyard politics and the Han Solo aggressive negotiations of "shooting your way out" was not going to work when there was nowhere to run. They were trapped.

Unkar Plutt was not pleased with this confrontation. "No sales for insubordinate behavior – those looking to stir up trouble." It wheezed with a slam of its flabby appendage on the counter surface, its beady black eyes blinking furiously in her direction. "You are too bold, _girl_."

Not a second passed until the three of them were shut out of the blockhouse with a defiant slam of the shuttered window.

As if in mutual understanding, the three of them decided it was advantageous to avoid eye contact with the surrounding bystanders. They stared at the closed window in silence, allowing for a few minutes to pass by as the scavengers lined up behind them muttered annoyances amongst themselves, begrudgingly dispersing to different corners of the open aired junk market. Show was over and there would be no distribution of rations for some time due to these troublesome outsiders.

"Well." Ben's father broke the awkward silence when they were now more or less standing alone, rocking from his heels to his toes. He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck before giving Ben a shrug. "That was productive."

He turned to the young woman, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the blockhouse. "That thing's a crook and _that_ is coming from a reformed one." She didn't respond but a smirk escaped the corner of her mouth. He returned her smile with a rare one of gratitude that surprised Ben in its sincerity. "Thanks for trying though." He looked back at Ben. "Let's get going, kid. Looks like it's back to square one."

Ben opened his mouth to add something but discovered words had failed him at the sight of her. He managed a mumbled _thank you_ before ducking his head down and ambling after his father. _Smooth, real smooth._

"Wait!"

He and his father obeyed, promptly turning on their heels to face her. "I can get you the parts." She offered hurriedly, color flushing her cheeks at her sudden eagerness. She cleared her throat and straightened her stance before repeating her offer, evenly. "I can get you the parts you need to fix your ship."

Han glanced at Ben, eyebrows raised with new interest, before returning his attention to this woman who was growing more mysterious by the minute. "Alright, we're listening."

"What are your ship's coordinates?" Without hesitation, Ben pulled his datapad from the inside of his jacket and handed it to her. She scrolled through the information displayed; her gaze too focused to meet Ben's own. He felt silly for being slightly disappointed. He watched as she thoroughly studied the coordinates on the screen, committing them to memory. "Tonight, meet me at this location." She inputted an additional set before handing it back to him and, for an instant, their eyes met. Her tightened, furious expression had been replaced with a softer one, a smile escaping her previous thin lined lips. Ben's face grew warm.

"Hate to break this party early, but it looks we've gained a couple of fans." His father announced dryly, noting the leering eyes of impatient onlookers She nodded in agreement.

"I'll see you there then." She started to walk away from them, adjusting the rucksack strap on her shoulder before turning her back towards them to leave.

"Wait!" Now it was Ben's turn to delay their departure. Puzzled, she paused to look at him. He swallowed, the thrumming in his ears returned. "What is your name?"

She grinned. "Rey." She called over her shoulder. "My name is Rey."

Then, disappearing into the hustle and bustle of the outpost, she was gone.

...

 _Kriff._

It was a hot one.

Not that she should expect much of anything different, to be honest. Over the last few decades, Jakku had seen governments, wars, and migrants had come and go and all that remained constant was the unforgiving climate that plagued it. If it were not for the remnants of battles from long ago that enthralled opportunist smugglers and junk merchants with lucrative business of technologies and goods, the planet would have sure been void of inhabitants by now - least Rey was convinced no one would choose to reside here otherwise.

Despite her aversion to the planet and its conditions, she strategically maneuvered through Niima Outpost with the ease of someone who frequented the area, minding the usual crowds. She was careful to avoid knocking into any of the junk merchant's workspaces, lest she wished to find herself in a petty quibble of demanded compensation for any "damaged" goods.

Some of them _were_ opportunists, after all.

Rey did not stop until she spotted a familiar back of an elderly Pa'lowick, currently hunched over at one of the worktables. Diligently scrubbing at a piece of metal sheeting gripped between her webbed fingers, she did not notice Rey's approach from behind. Rey reached out with one hand, gently brushing her fingers against the loose fitting, scratchy garment that kept the amphibian's sensitive skin from being exposed to the glare from above. At the human's touch, the Pa'lowick jumped in her seat a little, only to turn around and give a wide, toothy grin at what she saw.

"Rey!" She cried out, the scrap piece all but forgotten as she reached over and closed her yellow leathery fingers around Rey's hands to give them an affectionate squeeze. They were rough to the touch, but nonetheless inviting. " _It's so wonderful to see you_!"

" _Likewise, Toota_." Rey replied as earnestly, the Wild Space language blundered roughly off her tongue. "Here, I have something for you." She rifled through the articles inside her satchel at her side before presenting a handful of colorless ration packs she had earned a couple of days prior. Not surprisingly, Unkar Plutt was unable to ignore the value of Destroyer capaciter bearings in mint condition. Rey only provided the best, but never her secrets. At the sight of the offered rations, the wrinkles alongside Toota's bulbous blue eyes scrunched up as grateful tears welled up, sticking to her long lashes. Rey immediately wished she had more to give her.

"You're too good to me, Rey dear." She gingerly placed the packs safely inside the pockets of her repurposed utility belt, cinched at the center of her round form. "How are your parents faring these days?"

"Good, but busy." Rey admitted, weariness hung off her tone. She thought back to her parents kind but tired faces that wished her well this morning as she left their home. "Trade is booming more with each passing cycle. With all these systems getting their bearings, there is always a need for new ships and manufactured goods-"

"You need to get out of there, dear girl." Toota interrupted by gently shoving a long yellow finger, speckled with purple, into Rey's rib. "You're much too talented to be limited by this part of the galaxy. You should be flying amongst the stars."

Rey winced at her words, not because they were unkind but because she knew they were true. "I know, Toota. It's just that they need so many hands…" Her voice trailed as she met Toota's unconvinced eyes. She completed her string of excuses with by giving a soft smile of defeat. "Maybe next year."

Toota's lips pursed at the end of her long snout, clearly skeptical but decided to not press any further. After so many seasons, the elderly Pa'lowick knew to stop while ahead. Rey intended to change the subject but was disrupted by a sudden prickling sensation of hairs rising on the back of her neck, alerting her that she was being watched.

She turned away from Toota to find her gaze unexpectedly tangled with a pair of dark brown eyes.

And, just as swiftly as their eyes locked, the other pair jerked away.

The owner was a young man who Rey had never seen before. She observed him with considerable interest, entertained rather than threatened by his efforts to appear occupied by whatever he could find above him. This was quite limited considering he towered over the majority of beings bustling past his lanky form. Though disheveled and grungy from most recent travels, his attempts to blend in were further in vain as Rey noted the fine material of his brown leather jacket. It was rare to see that kind of money around here – in clothing, no less. Peeking over the collar was a small area of pale skin that was tinged slightly pink, unsuccessfully covered by his dark drawn back hair. Was that sunburn or betrayed embarrassment? Rey wasn't sure, but one thing was for certain: He wasn't from around here.

"Handsome, isn't he?" Toota chided. She was studying the young man now too with peaked curiosity. They both watched him fumble around, still desperately glancing in every direction other than theirs before the Pa'lowick clicked her tongue in approval. "You don't often seen men like that in these parts."

Rey blushed furiously, ducking out of sight to seat herself beside Toota. He was rather attractive; there would be no use in denying it to her prying friend. "I guess so." Her reply was as offhanded as she could muster.

"His father is rather good looking too." Toota casually added. From her safe spot, Rey looked past the young man towards a gruff, worn-looking older one. A determined hard lined mouth, chiseled chin, and peppered grayed hair, he was shaped by unnamed adversities the galaxy had to offer. Yet, even from this distance, his eyes glinted with a relentless spirit. What was his story, Rey wondered. She was becoming increasingly fascinated by the mysterious pair.

"His father?" Rey asked. Toota seemed so confident of their relationship. "What makes you say that?"

Toota eyed her, a genuine smile forming at the end of her long snout. "They both have adventure in their eyes."

Rey opened her mouth to ask for more clarification before she was interrupted by a booming, agitated voice yelling in Basic. "How _MUCH_?!" She swiveled in her seat just in time to see the older gentleman slam his hands onto the blockhouse counter. _The maker._ Her eyes darted in several surrounding directions in time to see a number of Plutt's hire hands observing the scene, quietly closing in case of reinforcements. The pair of human men remained unaware.

Survival instinct told her she should stayed about her business; watch the scene unfold as it were. However, there was something deep inside Rey that tugged her, urging her to intervene. She hesitated.

"I'll see you later, dear." Toota said knowingly, giving an encourage nod of her body and nudge of her eyes.

Rey gave her friend one last apologetic look before lifting herself up from her seat and joining the fray.

The path was clear.

* * *

 _"An invisible red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances._

 _The thread may stretch or tangle – but **never** break."_

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, there's _that_ so far. I'd like to think that the two of them were destined to meet, regardless if Ben crossed over to the dark side or not. I hope you enjoy my AU head canon thus far.

Do we really still have a year until IX? Think of all the fics/topics to be explored!

Let me know what you think so far :) Hopefully there's still some active sequel fic readers out there! I need to catch up myself.

xox rose


	2. II

**A/N:** WOW! That took way longer than I anticipated. I had originally intended this to be a two parter but after working on this portion, I felt that splitting it into the three would flow a lot better!

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The silence of a Jakku evening was deafening. Having regularly frequented Coruscant, lived with two quite vocal parents, and grown up with the backdrop of roaring engines back home on Chandrila, Ben was accustomed to a certain level of assault on his ears. Even quiet times spent on the Falcon were filled the comforting hum of consoles and parts; a soothing sort of lullaby that Ben had fallen asleep to countless times over the years.

"You think she played us, kid?" His father questioned gruffly from his side as they overlooked empty dunes, the crests only made slightly visible by the soft glow of the single moon in the night sky. There appeared to be nothing for miles yet this was definitely the place Rey had designated for their meeting. Chewbacca gave out a low grumble, echoing Han's concerns. Ben suddenly felt foolish. Rey had seen their coordinates, a good mile or so away from where they were standing now. Having brought Chewbacca in preparation for any muscle this venture may require, the Falcon was left completely unattended while a complete stranger knew its whereabouts. For all they knew, she could currently be robbing them blind.

"No she didn't." Ben assured as his father responded with his trademark skeptical look. "I just know it."

Han didn't appear to be entirely convinced, but did not press further. He had experienced years of following his son's gut instinct, and much to his bewilderment, it tended to be right. It was a skill both he and his mother shared. Though granting a nod of approval at his son's claim, he could not help but take a wisecrack his certainty. "I can't say I blame you – I trusted a lot of pretty brown eyes back in my day too."

Ben gave a roll of his eyes as his father playfully shoved Chewbacca, who chortled in equal amusement at his expense. Before Ben could quip back, a figure appeared in the distance as it rose over the nearest dune, silhouetted by the moon's light.

"This way!" It called out to them. Though their paths had only crossed for a brief few minutes, the voice was as familiar sounding to Ben's ears as if it belonged to an old friend. It was Rey.

Jokes temporarily put aside, their team of three swiftly obliged and crossed the remaining distance of the dune, joining her on the ledge of the plateau. From this position, they overlooked a sandy plain that had been temporarily tucked out of their previous vantage point. This was no ordinary landscape, however, and Ben was flabbergasted that it had gone unseen by them before now. Looming in the distance were two Star Destroyers - or, what was left of them. Victim to the elements and time, the relics of Empire past were half submerged in the sands while what was exposed had become a mere crumbled shell of the great threat they once were. The soft blue light of the overhead moon illuminated the surrounding areas of wrecked TIE fighters and dated ships of the Rebellion now all but scattered skeletons. It was as breathtaking as it was haunting.

"The Graveyard of Giants." Rey spoke first, as if answering Ben's wonderment. "This is where junk traders and scavengers seek their goods to turn into Unkar Plutt in exchange for rations. It's provided the main source of business to this planet in the last three decades. These ruins are remnants of-"

"The Battle of Jakku." His father interrupted her. Both she and Chewbacca joined Ben in glancing at the old Rebellion hero. His father rarely discussed the war, and now he's attention hardly wavered from the scene laid out before them. Memories flitted behind his eyes until a brief smile broke through his sober expression. "I am more or less familiar."

Rey nodded solemnly. "You'll find your parts there. Let's move." She lifted her rucksack onto her shoulder onto her shoulder and, without hesitation, leapt from the edge of the plateau, skidding down its sand slopes towards their destination with ease.

Ben, his father, and Chewbacca shared a glance before shrugging and, possibly against their better judgment, jumped after her.

* * *

It should have come as no surprise to Ben to discover that the inside of the destroyer was just as ghostly and lifeless as its exterior. His father and Chewbacca had decided to keep posts as lookouts outside, which Han Solo was just fine with. "I've done enough time on Empire vessels to last me a lifetime." He had wryly remarked.

Now standing at the wreck's center, Ben could not help but suck in his breath, simply overwhelmed by the sheer mass of it all. Titanic hulls erect on either side of him, the moonlight casting shadows through their rotted cracks. He had only seen these massive beasts in pictures and painted renderings featured in museums and historical texts that detailed the Galactic Civil War. Admittedly, this was a piece of history that was minimally discussed back home, despite its lasting influence on his family. Unlike his father, his mother a bit more likely to discuss the subject but it was not necessarily a conversation she willingly brought up at dinner. A product of the political sphere, Leia Organa was able to discuss a great wide array of atrocities without so much as a flinch. Mention of the War, however, Ben could see the hurt in her brown eyes – sunspots on the brightest star. Out of respect towards her, he reigned in his curiosity and relied heavily on other resources to educate himself on the matter.

Still, no text ever studied would have prepared him for the sheer size and majesty of these ships. His mouth must have been unconsciously gaping for Rey felt in that moment the need to elaborate. "The Battle of Jakku was the Empire's last stand against the New Republic, a scramble to show a powerful military force in the wake of their Emperor's death." She was at Ben's side; her voice hushed from the weight of her words. "That's how they controlled the galaxy – through intimidation and off the fears of those they ruled." She paused for emphasis and joined his upward gaze. "Now its remains are at the mercy of those it oppressed. Ironic."

They continued walking deeper into the ruins, farther from the natural light of the moon and guided by the two beams of two glowrods she had produced from her bag earlier. "Why doesn't anyone else come at night?" Ben was genuinely curious. With this treasure-trove of technology and parts, a junk trader would have their pick of goods, securing themselves a guaranteed few portions the following day.

Rey shrugged. "Locals believe it's haunted by those who perished here. Mysticism is quite prevalent out here in Western Reaches. Though don't worry-" She reassured after catching Ben's abrupt side-step and quick survey of the floor below in her peripheral. "Any remains are well decomposed in this climate by now. Dust." Ben swallowed uneasily. Unsurprisingly, this fact provided little comfort.

"Not that one has much of a choice, but I would not want this to be my final resting place." Rey mused out loud as Ben quickened his pace to catch up to her.

"Yeah, but they were bad folks anyway…" When he did not sense her immediate affirmation, Ben looked to his side and faltered when he discovered Rey to be thoughtfully staring ahead. "Weren't they?"

She nodded. "I would like to think beings, of any species, are not inherently evil. The people on these ships chose evil not because it is evil, but they were maliciously misled to believe it as a necessary means to create a better galaxy-"

"But they killed countless beings-" Ben sputtered out.

Rey didn't disagree. "The acts that they carried out on behalf of the Empire were evil, unforgiveable even." She hesitated, selecting her next words carefully before giving Ben a sad smile. "It's easier to believe that evil is something that is material; a clear enemy we can resist. But, often times evil is the cold truth that normal beings can be swayed to commit atrocities against each other."

He didn't have a reply for her. Rey stared into the dark abyss, a forgotten grave to thousands of these beings before whispering. "I mourn them all the same."

Ben ogled after her as they advanced into the crumbling destroyer in a shared pensive silence. In spite of her seemingly young age, her words carried weight well beyond her years. Admittedly, being raised in a privileged world of Chandrila allowed for Ben to organize history into neat little boxes: The Empire was a menacing authority of evil that threatened the galaxy as they knew it while the Rebellion was a spark of hope in the madness. Surely the Rebels were responsible for some devastating loss of life when considering their largest organized attacks on the two prized Death Stars costing the Empire thousands – but since it was an attack on their military forces, the Rebellion was not wrong. Right? Not when the Empire mercilessly attacked civilians across the galaxy.

Ben's brow furrowed. Everything had been so conveniently black and white that he never thought to those who were adrift in the gray, scattered on the outskirts of the political arena and often left to fend for themselves by the Republic sworn to serve and protect them. Ben had witnessed the fate of colonies and planets under failed bureaucracy, victims to the red tape in just recent times - he could only begin to envision how enticing the Empire's vision must have been to those who were impoverished decades ago. The Galaxy's most vulnerable inhabitants had fallen through the Republic's splintered, broken promises into the coaxing assurance of a gloved palm. One must have been desperate to do _anything_ to grasp order in a world of turmoil – even the most unconscionable of deeds.

She was right. It was easier to find blame in a sorcerer dressed in a dark robe.

 _Or a mask_.

He shuddered at the thought. A reflection for another day. A call to do better.

"There, look!" Rey's words jerked Ben to the present moment. She was earnestly pointing to the area above them, her glowrod illuminating an area of panels that had since rotted away, revealing a skeletal structure of eroding hardcore. This portion was rather unassuming and would have otherwise been passed over by an untrained eye of those ignorant to the treasures it contained.

"These ships are massive beasts, containing power cells that will carry us into the next millennia." Rey explained confidently without taking her eyes off the prize above. "That's where they'll be."

"Isn't this…stealing?" Ben was a bit apprehensive. He thought back to all those junk merchants dragging their heavy rucksacks across the scorching sands of the outpost, only to be rewarded with an insulting amount of grotesque portions from an even more grotesque looking junk boss.

Rey gave Ben a sly look from the corner of her eyes. "I call it opportunistic scavenging. And besides," She moved her jacket open to reveal well-equipped utility belt. A vintage Nubian heavy blaster pistol caught Ben's attention. "Unkar Plutt likes to believe he has a monopoly on this ship graveyard, but he doesn't."

Before Ben could further comment, Rey had unhitched the relic from her hip and pointed it upwards in one swift motion that he did not initially notice the dart launcher underneath the main barrel before it fired a grappling hook tip meters overhead. Once determined taut and secure, Rey promptly ascended effortlessly.

Ben was awestruck as he watched her scale the width of the exposed paneling with the ease of someone who had walked these steps many times before, his eyes following the light beams of her headgear as she searched. This woman and her unbridled kindness towards strangers overwhelmed him and that unusual, inexplicable feeling of _knowing_ had returned, leaving him breathless.

But _how_.

Despite overwhelming evidence and family history, Ben was never preoccupied with the possibility of divinely interwoven paths, the concept of "destiny", or the agency of the Force and its mysterious intentions. His life philosophy had more or less resembled that of his father's: At the end of the day, your fate is the choices you make and, despite his father's prided aloofness, Han Solo's fate was paved by charitable deeds – whether or not he would care admit to it. Even so, Ben could not ignore that nagging question of question of what would have happened if their paths had not crossed with Rey, if not for something larger at play.

Clanks and clinks reverberated through the hollowed ship as Rey jostled her arm inside of the panel's compartment. She did not stop until she was greeted by a satisfied snap before wriggling her arm free. "Got it!" She victoriously held a power cell over her head before digging in for as many as her bag could carry. Once satisfied with her plunder, she released a cable below. Mesmerized, Ben watched as the cable dance towards him as it uncoiled to the ground in time for Rey to descend with confident ease.

He watched in her wonder. Ben could have watched her forever.

* * *

 **A:N** : Ahhh, I know this part is short and sweet but I promise the next one will be a bit longer! Please let me know what you think :)

Hope everyone is surviving the holiday season - WITHOUT Star Wars! /3

xox Rose


	3. III

**A/N:** WELL. I'm super embarrassed by how long this installment took to write/post. The holidays happened and then, well, life. But with Star Wars Celebration around the corner with hopefully new announcements concerning IX, how can you NOT get hyped?!

Only one more smol closing chapter after this one, but I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Few things impressed the infamous ex-smuggler, which is why Ben was secretly elated at his father's brief surprised expression at Rey's spoils.

"Impressive work." He had praised out of the corner of his mouth. The tips of Rey's ears turned pink at the compliment. "If you're in no rush this evening, join us for dinner-" Ben's heart stopped. "I've seen those rations you got from here, kid. It's the least we can do."

Chewbacca growled in agreement. Ben's palms began sweating.

It was unanimous then. Rey would join them.

After sending a brief message home to her parents to not expect her until the next day, the band of them boarded Rey's shuttle parked nearby to the Falcon. The Imperial era spacecraft was quite cramped and had seen better years, but Ben sensed Rey's pride for the run-down old shuttle – and a Solo could empathize with a pilot's pride. Ben held his breath only once as it lurched and shuddered at lift off, but slowly and surely crossed over the desert floor to their destination.

The Falcon, much to Ben's relief, had remained untouched during their venture.

Arguably their reheated rations of dewback stew were not much more appetizing than murky gray portions distributed at Niima Outpost but the ambience was unquestionably more pleasant: a crackling bonfire acted as backdrop to the comforting sounds of small talk and clattering plates. The company was also significantly better. Ben watched as Rey throw her head back with a booming laugh at his father recounting one of his clichéd stories from past smuggling days. It was a tale Ben could easily recite word for word by now, including glossed over details and exaggerated measurements that seemed to grow with passing time. However he remained quiet with a knowing smile and chose to refrain from spoiling his father's new audience.

Shortly after completing their meal, Han and Chewbacca turned in for the evening in preparation for their early departure the following morning – but not without a suggestive wink from Han that his son conveniently ignored – leaving the Ben and Rey finally alone. They remained beside the dying fire as it smoldered the last firewood, casting a hot red glow and dancing shadows around them. Their silence was comfortable though Ben's mind was racing.

Whether she was ignorant of his nerves or indifferent, Rey's attention was absorbed by the vast sky overhead. Without the presence of any real functioning civilization emitting light pollution, the evening presented itself in an endless blanket of twinkling stars. Ben was unable to recall a time he had ever seen so many stars in the open without being confined to a cockpit. Despite this dazzling natural display, Ben was all but distracted by the mesmerizing woman he sat with.

Rey was clearly awestruck. "Don't you wish you were a part of it all?"

Her question took Ben off guard. "Part of what?"

Her arms flailed up, giddily gesturing to the sky. "All of it! The Rebellion, the Republic…" She sighed longingly. "Being a part of something larger than yourself."

"Uhh…" She looked to him intently and all he could muster was a sheepish shrug.

Rey huffed at his nonchalance, blowing a wisp of stray hair away from her face. "That's the kind of reaction my parents would have – you'd like them. Merchants on Fondor." She loosely waved her hand as if this was explanation enough. "They are kind and I appreciate all they've done for me. They even allow me to run their trade routes because they understand I love to fly, however…" Rey hugged her knees, her eyes drifting to the fire. "I feel guilty for wanting more."

 _Fondor_. Ben racked his brain on what little he knew of the industrialized world having never been there. No wonder the stars enthralled her, as her home planet heavily surrounded by active orbital shipyards and drydocks and a surface covered with a myriad of factories that would mute even the most vibrant constellation. He also understood that the Core-World ecumenopolis had been isolated from other planets during the time of the Galactic War, its labor and resources exploited to build Star Destroyers like the one they had just pillaged. Ben shifted uneasily where he was seated. This knowledge offered more clarity to her solemn remarks on those led astray by the Empire's empty promises, though it not feel like a lesson intended to make Ben guilty of his ignorance. Her people – her parents – had seen war, struggle, felt hunger. In his travels on behalf of the New Republic, Ben had witnessed civilizations in comparable circumstances that had yet to establish stability in the form of labor unions and localized democracy that Fondor had in the years following the Galactic War. The alternative was quite dangerous.

"They are just trying to protect you."

"I guess you're right." Rey conceded with swig of her remaining port with a shudder of her shoulders. "So - what of your parents?" She had redirected the conversation effortlessly, motioning towards the quiet gangplank of the Falcon. "Your father is very gracious."

Ben snorted. She was being kind. His dad was agreeable at times, humorous even, but "gracious" was not on the shot list of adjectives Ben would include on his father's first impressions list.

"I saw his New Republic brooch today at the Outpost -fastened inside his jacket." Rey confessed, twisting the bottom of her braid around her index finger. "Plutt must have seen it too – hence the price gouging." Ah, Ben thought. His father's confident pose of his hands on his hips – with an open jacket. Now it made sense. "Is he a senator?"

Ben's loud guffaw startled her. "Oh no, oh no. My father is certainly not one for politics, I can assure you. My mother is the politician."

Rey's curiosity was peaked. "Your mother? From what system?"

"Chandrila." He promptly answered back but instantly regretted. The Galactic Senate was made of innumerable senators of every species hailing from every corner of the Galaxy. On any given day, the New Republic senatorial complex on Hosnian Prime was swarming with hundreds of these senators that it would be nearly impossible to identify them all. Even so, Ben had little doubt that his mother's planet would escape this young woman's attention – even out here in the Western Reaches.

As if on queue, Rey quickly sucked in a breath. Ben winced. "Your mother is Leia Organa? Which means your father is…" Her words trailed off and eyes widened with recognition before flitting over to the Falcon. Ben often wondered if the ship relic ever lived up to its notorious tales told in legends and stories across the galaxy. After hearing the tall tale his own father told, he assumed most would be disappointed.

Rey, however, was not. "Your mother and father are heroes in the New Republic – the galaxy!" She shook her head in disbelief. "And here I was, teaching _you_ – the son of war heroes – Galactic Civil War history!" She grinned sheepishly, attempting to shield her embarrassment. "You must think me a fool."

Ben chuckled good-naturedly but shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Life as the son of a princess and war hero was never something he would be accustomed to. There were few corners of the galaxy he could travel to without being recognized. He should have assumed that Jakku would be no exception.

"Is the other part true?" Rey asked in a hushed tone.

Ben, baffled, turned to her. "What other part?"

"Your uncle…is he a _Jedi_?" She asked. She had stopped drinking now, her eyes steady and expectant.

"Yes."

Rey squealed aloud and clasped her hands together, startling Ben. "I've always wanted to meet a Jedi." She admitted. "I always thought they were a myth."

"A myth?" Ben asked incredulously.

"You know," Rey waved her hand, searching for the words. "An ancient religion, of another era, that some have recently picked up again."

Her nonchalance confused Ben. "So you don't believe in the Force?"

"Not everyone does." She must have picked up on his confusion because she elaborated. "Well, it's hard for beings to imagine what is in store for them a year from now, a month – tomorrow, even." She shrugged. "You can't always convince someone to believe in something they can't see with their own eyes, Ben."

Ben initially opened his mouth to reply, but then decided against it, instead focusing his attention on the forgotten fruit on Rey's dinner plate. It was her turn to be confused as she watched him steadily raise his hand without a word.

It was like a stretch of an unused muscle or a scratch of an old itch, but eventually a single shuura fruit lifted from the plate, hovering over for a moment, before drifting into Ben's open hand. Rey was momentarily stunned at the display.

"Okay, okay." She laughed after regaining her composure. "Call me a believer now." She graciously accepted defeat and a piece of the sweet fruit from Ben he had sliced in half. "Is this your way of telling me that you're _also_ a Jedi?"

Ben cleared his throat, grateful for the subdued lighting of the dying fire that hid the pink of his cheeks at her apparent flirtatious teasing. "No – not really, anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

Ben chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, recognizing that his next words would undoubtedly sober the mood. "The Jedi in their earliest practices would actively seek out Force-sensitive. In order to be properly trained at the Temple, younglings were taken from their families at a very young age – separated from any family they've ever known. " Ben stared off into the dimming embers as Rey quietly listened beside him. "It was believed that their training as Padawans were most effective when they were cut off from potential attachments."

He smirked wistfully. "In a way, they were more advanced than any Imperial army, yet not prepared for the betrayal amongst their own – unwittingly granting power to those who ultimately destroyed them."

"But not all of them." Rey faltered as he looked to her, a bit apprehensive that she may be overstepping a boundary before finishing shyly. "I know the legends."

Ben nodded. Though he was not bothered by her input he was a bit less inclined to discuss what she may have heard in detail. "My uncle was not exposed to the Jedi way until later in life. He had experienced attachment, love, extreme loss and disappointment before he ever laid a hand on a lightsaber. Unlike the Order that came before him, he holds the belief that the full being experience makes him a more effective Jedi in the end – partly the reason I wasn't whisked away to the Temple's academy the moment I raised a tooka doll over my head." He chuckled, almost distracted by the memory. "For him, agency is of the upmost importance. The decision to fulfill the path of the Jedi should be mine and mine alone."

"So why didn't you?" She was unabashedly captivated now.

He shrugged. "My decision was similar to that of my mother's when she discovered she was a descendent of the Skywalkers bloodline: Powerful light but not without powerful darkness." He swallowed, feeling his demeanor darken. He wasn't speaking now as much as it was spilling out of him. "It was a lot of responsibility to rest on the shoulder's of a young child. Even now, I'm not sure if I'm able to make that decision yet. I'm not suited to carry on the legacy."

Before he could become adrift in his brooding self-doubt, an unexpected soft touch a top his hand dragged him back to the present moment. Rey's eyes were waiting for him to return, the corners of her pulled into soft smile.

"I find you extraordinary, Ben." An unfamiliar warmth traveled from the pit of his stomach to the tips of his ears. His flushed cheeks betrayed him.

"I – uh," He sputtered, at a loss of words. How could he even respond? He was abruptly aware of how foolish he must sound.

Without warning, the dizzying sensation from her touch was beginning to blur his vision. The space around them was spinning and Ben was finding it difficult to catch his breath.

 _Get a hold of yourself_. Ben shook his head to settle himself but attempts were futile. This wasn't simply nerves. You'd think he never spoken to a woman before.

Embarrassed by his unexplained reaction, Ben moved to apologize but was forced to give pause once his eyesight recovered. He and Rey now shared a cramped space; the dying flames of their bonfire that were only moments before stretching towards the open night sky were now splashing shadows against the tight walls that now encircled them. The crackling fire does little to dry his skin, damp from the unexplained shift from the barren planet's arid climate to one that was heavy with moisture. As if only to make the circumstances all the more baffling, Ben felt the inexplicable sensation of drifting between two scenes, one where he remained seated with Rey and the other, inside cold, sterile private quarters of an unfamiliar ship where the whirring of machinery filled his ears.

A faint gust of recycled air blew onto his exposed neck, sending an uncomfortable shiver down Ben's spine. He looked to Rey, desperate for an explanation but, to his disbelief, the sight of her provoked more questions than answers. She was drenched from head to toe as made apparent from her slicked back hair that hung in knotted strands over her shoulders. She remained quiet and was seemingly unaware of any turn of events as she clutched a rather scratchy looking bedcovering around her small frame. They sat in a strange silence as her disarming gaze bore into him, causing Ben to feel even more exposed than he thought possible. He briefly wondered what she saw. In addition to the glossy sheen of remaining moisture that clung to her features, Ben noted her tear-streaked cheeks that were threatened by more brimming at the ends of her long lashes. Without a word, she moved her shawl to uncover her hand with the silent understanding she was to reach out to him. Her arm motion was slow and hesitant, unlike her caress in their previous reality, but not lacking purpose.

Instinctively, Ben moved to meet her touch but was disrupted by the dimming of his surroundings, his vision once again subjected to a morphing between realities.

The harsh overhead lights of an unidentified turbolift had displaced the dim glow of the fire inside the hut. They stood alone, their sudden close proximity highlighting their height difference as Ben towered over her.

But she was not to be intimidated. Rey's previous express of defeat had been replaced with one of defiance and there was even, Ben dared to observe, impassioned hope that glimmered from behind her eyes.

Her face tilted up towards him, their gazes tangled.

Ben fought the impulse to kiss her.

Without the courtesy of a warning, their surroundings once again warped and wormholed around them into a new scene; one which washed over Ben in a wave of disbelief and nausea. The paneled black floor they stood on was littered with red garments, damaged weapons, and faceless bodies. Embers danced in the air.

His breathing is heavy and labored from exertion. Rey studied him carefully, standing a safe distance away. He reached out to her, desperate for her grasp. _HELP!_ The word screamed in his head, but only one word managed to escape:

"Please _."_ He whispered.

Her tear-streaked features had returned, except this time it was different. No longer was her expression tinged with longing but tightened with anguish. Disappointment. Regret. Her tears were not to be confused with weakness or surrender – he saw it in her stance, the way her shoulders rolled back, her jaw locked.

She was resolute. Her decision, whatever it may be, would not waver.

Slowly, her hand rose to meet his and-

 _"Euuuuugh!"_

Ben wrenched his hand back, plunging back with a force that nearly knocked him onto his back. Rey yelped and snapped her own hand back in response to his outburst, as though burned.

Ben dug his hands in the sand beside him, a desperate attempt to ground himself to reality. He heaved a few gulps of air, the stale taste of Jakku's atmosphere a strange comfort to his senses. His body slouched as a relieved sigh escaped him.

He was back.

"I-I'm sorry." Rey stammered, embarrassed. She inched away. "I shouldn't have been so forward."

"No, no – " Ben awkwardly chuckled, disguising his slight panic. "I'm just a bit out of practice."

"Oh." Rey was probably not all that reassured, but managed a meek smile that salvaged what little was left of the moment – and his dignity.

A few hushed moments passed between them before Rey's attention returned to the bonfire that had all but become a simmering heap of crackling ash and ember. Ben watched too, but his mind traveled elsewhere. He was having a difficult time grasping all that he had just seen. Was it a vision - a premonition, perhaps? He inwardly shook his head. No – the emotions and scenarios were too strange, too foreign, yet…

He studied Rey from his peripheral, her relaxed features illuminated in the soft, orange glow and seemingly unfazed. There was no mistaking that she was the woman he had seen – but what did it all mean, if anything at all? He gingerly rubbed the side of his head, his thumb grazing the hair that hung at his temple. It had been such a lucid vision. He had not had a dream like that in years, two decades even-

"Ahh, _well_ then." Rey stretched her arms overhead and fell backwards in a casual sprawl. Ben followed suit and reclined beside her, careful that his arms did not brush against hers. There they lay comfortably, shoulder-to-shoulder, absorbing the brilliant night sky the galaxy offered that evening. For a moment, they were able to forget the desolate planet they found themselves on.

"They're beautiful." Rey finally said.

"Mhhm." Ben's murmured quietly, as to avoid disturbing another moment. "They're so many of them."

"Yes, but all aligned in the perfect place. No matter chaotic things may be, life always finds seems to find a way." She repositioned her weight slightly, causing her shoulder brushing against his ever so lightly. The thrumming energy from such a close proximity to her was nothing short of intoxicating and Ben felt his previous anxieties melt away. His racing thoughts ceased. He was completely spellbound.

"In this moment they are all exactly where they need to be." She finished breathlessly.

Ben doesn't reply but she doesn't need him to. The last thing he remembered before drifting to sleep was her head finding the crook of his shoulder.

Her hair smelled of velanie flower.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ah-HA! See? It's an AU/Canon crossover! #redthread.

Sounds like Ben needs to reach out to a particular Uncle for guidance. All this seems kind of weird, don't you think?

Drop a review and let me know what you DO think! Thanks for joining/sticking around!

xox Rose


	4. IV

**A/N:** Oof. Well, this was delayed. Life happens I guess but I was certain this would be posted well before Episode IX, which is fast approaching!

If you're new - welcome! And enjoy this piece in its entirety.

If you're a return here - I'M SORRY. Please forgive me.

* * *

The light from the rising sun prickled his closed eyelids, its warmth nudging Ben awake.

Morning had arrived on Jakku.

His joints and neck tightened in protest as he gradually lifted himself from the sand mound that had served as a bed the night before. Their groans were an aching reminder that his final days sleeping out in the elements without repercussions was fast approaching on his gangly, almost 30 year old frame. He rolled his head back, observing the oranges and pinks in the sky that had given into a light blue. The unforgiving heat would soon follow.

He glanced at his side where his Rey had also fallen asleep to find she had vanished. Her rucksack, rickety Imperial era ship: all gone. If it were not for the slight dip of sand where her small figure had slept, Ben could have been fooled into thinking it was all a dream.

He did not dwell on his disappointment for too long. Many things that had transpired over the course of the last day had surprised Ben, but her swift departure was not one of them. Ben needed answers and he was pretty confident he knew where to find them.

Careful not to wake anyone, Ben lightly crept up the gangplank of the Falcon. Chewbacca's guttural snores from the common area reverberated through the quiet freighter, uninterrupted due to the absence of raucous sounds from misbehaving mechanics. He slipped into the unoccupied cockpit and gingerly seated himself in the pilot's seat. Only when he was certain that no one woke up from his entrance did Ben begin clunking through the junk drawer until he uncovered a worn holoprojector at the bottom, but not before sifting through loose sabaac cards, wires, and peggats. After a few shakes and strikes against his open hand, the dated electronic sputtered reluctantly to life.

Only a few moments passed before a blue-hued translucent image of a familiar, robe clad figure appeared hovering over Ben's palm.

Ben greeted him. "Hi, Uncle Luke."

The Jedi's initial stoic features cracked into a wide grin at the unexpected sight of his nephew, his joy reaching even the crinkled corners of his aged eyes. Even with the device's distorted reception, his excited eyes shone their brilliant blue. "Ben, it's so good to hear from you."

Ben must have looked distracted since Luke immediately then furrowed his eyebrows into a worried expression. "What troubles you?"

His answer was blunt. "I had a vision."

Luke tsked softly. "It's been awhile. What kind of vision?" He smirked, lightening the mood. "Not the final race results like you did as a child, eh?" His uncle chuckled at the memory. "I always had to remind your father – that's not how the Force works!"

Ben returned Luke's smile. It was true. As a Force-sensitive child, Ben was prone to frequent visions and dreams growing up. Often times it was simple scenarios of a burnt finger on a hot plate, predicting incoming severe weather, and yes, even advantageous odds while his father gambled a race or two. He thought back to he and Rey standing in an unfamiliar room, dead bodies littering the black tiled floor surrounding them. "A bit more intense then that." He admitted.

"Tell me."

"I met a woman."

"Oh?"

"No, not like that. Well –" Ben avoided his uncle's gaze but could feel his amused eyes watching him. His inflection had betrayed him. "That's not the important part in all this. When we touched hands, that's when I saw these visions…"

Luke looked apprehensive. "What have I told you about visions, Ben-"

"I know you've always taught me to be mindful, Uncle Luke, especially visions of the future. I assure you, these were different." Ben hurriedly described the enclosed fire pit, the unfamiliar spacecraft, and the disconcerting scene of what was surely the aftermath of intense combat. Over what, Ben was left in the dark. "I was still myself, right now - but _not -_ at the same time." Ben absentmindedly pulled his free fingers through loose hair, at a loss for a description: he was beginning to sound crazy. "I was trapped in my own body in a different place, a different life. I- I don't know what it all means."

Forehead creased in thought, Luke folded his hands inside the sleeves of his robe. Ben had a difficult time discerning his pensive expression but could sense his thoughts ruminating behind his sage eyes. Ben knew this look all too well: the answer would not be so simple.

It felt like hours until his uncle finally spoke. "For so long the Jedi spoke of two paths: the Dark and the Light." He exhaled, his voice quiet and even. "We spoke of two paths that Force-sensitive beings in our galaxy may be forced to take, a singular decision made that would determine the rest of their lifetime. The Order, quite arrogantly, believed that they could prevent the fall of these beings to the Dark side by collecting them as babes; training them in the ways of the Force and in the Light."

Ben had heard his uncle say this all before, but there was a tinge of urgency in the way he spoke now that kept his attention. He remained quiet.

"The path to either the Dark or the Light is never a singular choice that alters one's path forever. It's a decision that we make every day. This truth was lost over time and it is by this hubris that we failed the most mighty among us."

At his words, the unclear sequence of events Ben witnessed in his vision became all the more troubling. The overwhelming sense of cold, isolation, and anguish still remained as shadows lingering on his consciousness. His stomach churned as the pieces fell together. This nightmare he had, was not a prophecy or a vision of the future, rather, a glimpse of what might have been?

The fleeting thought did not bring Ben any ease.

His uncle brought Ben back to the present. "This woman you described: she was in your vision too?"

"Yes…" Ben started tentatively, remembering the way Rey's hand crossed over the small fire to meet his. "She was trying to reach for me."

"I see." Luke softly responded. He appeared distracted, his electric blue eyes seeking something beyond his nephew. The old Jedi's eyes had always been the most striking of his features. As a child, Ben would swear that if he stared hard enough he could see the legendary Jedi Knight that had since become hidden by age. Wrinkles pinched at the corner of his eyes were proof of a life filled with blissful moments but it was no secret their owner had touched Darkness in his lifetime. Luke Skywalker had always been honest with him, educating him in the ways of the Force - so why was Ben unable to suppress the nagging suspicion that something had been revealed to his uncle that he was not yet sharing?

"As moral sentient beings, we take pride in our free will, our ability to turning to the Light despite the seductive promises of the Dark. However, the Force has a way of nudging us in a particular direction if we are willing to listen. It can take many forms, spanning across different lifetimes – some arguably more convincing than others. " Ben could hardly suppress his blush this time as a knowing smile cracked through Luke's pensive reverie.

He grappled at his uncle's cryptic words, searching for their meaning. Ben Solo had lived a life of privilege and a loving family who provided the guidance he needed. He was, as Rey had so boldly implied, sheltered to the realities of the galaxy in the aftermath of the war. Ben had seen its horrors, hadn't he? His work with the Republic had brought aid to countless malnourished species and their decimated homes. Was there something more intended for him and was his uncle suggesting Rey as the Force's beacon?

"I have to go." Ben looked to Luke, who seemed hardly surprised by his nephew's sudden urgency. "Thank you." He hurriedly lifted himself from the pilot's chair, making a move to exit the cockpit without so much as disconnecting the holoprojector.

"Ben." He paused at the entrance, glancing over his shoulder at his uncle's image which was now gradually dissolving against the light of Jakku's rising sun entering the cockpit. "You are more powerful than you know. The Dark side did not win in this lifetime of yours, but that does not mean the Light needs you any less."

Ben offered no reply other than a small nod of acknowledgement before finally exiting. He was determined by this new purpose but ignored the weight of Luke's words nagging in the back of his mind:

Ben never mentioned the Force had showed him fall to the Dark side.

. . .

 _Where was she?_

Ben had returned to the Graveyard of Giants. The harsh glare of the sun on the rugged landscape muted its prior evening allure but the view from where he stood on the raised plateau ledge was no less haunting. He couldn't quite explain it, but he was certain what he was looking for here.

Sudden movement just below the closest destroyer's ion engine caught Ben's eye and jolted his instincts.

 _Rey._

He fumbled through his satchel before swiftly grabbing his electrobinoculars and focusing the lenses on the area. There she was, dressed in her faded flight suit, her shawl shielding her head from the merciless sun that had now traveled further in the sky. She was joined by a few other various beings of different heights and faces that even Ben had trouble distinguishing their species. From their tattered garments and forged gear, he could only assume that they were scavengers on their daily search for scraps and parts worthy of meal for today. He wondered briefly what Rey was doing here after she had shared so much disdain for the shifty shopkeeper's business until he saw her reach from inside her satchel, revealing handfuls of rations. She proceeded to distribute them out to the scavengers, who hungrily accepted. At a closer look, Ben noted the silver hairs in the mane of a hunched over Bothan she was speaking to while a nearby Rodian's wide eyes watched on. With those facial proportions, he could have been no older than eight years.

Ah – so it made sense now: In addition to her trade route responsibilities, this respectable daughter of merchants completed acts of social justice and charity to those less able on the side. Ben smirked to himself as he watched her slip an extra ration pack into the young Rodian's rucksack without his knowledge. Her spirit was admirable.

Without hesitation, Ben jumped off the ledge and skidded the sandy slopes towards his destination.

. . .

Rey did not initially notice Ben as she was distracted by her conversation with Ithorian that stood beside her. He overheard some of their animated chatter as he approached the pair, unable to discern the unfamiliar tongue. Her companion was the first to observe him: the skin of his beige leathery lips pursing with peaked curiosity. Confused, Rey followed his gaze.

"Ben?" She squinted at him as if he was a mirage. He had not thought about how he must have been a sore sight: running through the Jakku desert was not much of a look for anyone. He was struggling to catch his breath.

"Rey."

She was undoubtedly thrown off guard by his sudden presence. "How-what are you doing here?" Thought she now spoke in Basic, her friend recognized when someone was stumbling over their words and slowly excused himself.

"Looking for you."

"Looking for _me_?" Disbelief. "Why?"

A beat passed.

"I want you to come with us."

A pause followed by a shake of her head.

"I don't understand. Ben-" Flustered, her hand tugged at her satchel strap over her shoulder. "What are you asking me to do?"

He hesitated, reading her bewildered expression. What _was_ he asking her? They had only just met yet their connection was certain – he could not simply walk away now. He did not need to be Force-sensitive to understand that much. The universe with all its intertwined and occasionally tangled destinies had their paths cross in at least two lifetimes - the Force had seen to it that he understood that much. He exhaled.

"With me." He corrected. "I want you to come _with me_." Rey opened her mouth to speak, but Ben hurriedly continued before she could either protest or accept. "You could see the galaxy like you've always wanted to. Rey-" He gestured widely to the scavengers who had returned to work, whose pockets were a little fuller than they had been before Rey had arrived but not by much. "There are more worlds like this one, with its inhabitants suffering from the crimes of a few." Ben watched her wistfully observe the young Rodian from before as he scrubbed a fruitless piece of scrap metal. A tear threatened to escape her long lashes. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You could do so much good for a galaxy that is still hurting so much. We need your spirit."

 _He_ needed her spirit. Her light. For too long Ben had gone through the motions on behalf of the Republic, a life of service and charity yet still removed from the pain of loss that his parents had so desperately sacrificed to give him. He did have a choice once, but whatever the Force had intended for him was out to find him anyway, so why run now?

His uncle's last words to him reverberated through his mind.

 _You are more powerful than you know. The Dark side did not win in this lifetime of yours, but that does not mean the Light needs you any less._

Ben knew what needed to be done. Finally.

As if something deeply innate ushered his movements, he reached his hand out to Rey, his bare palm open and welcoming. His sudden movement caught Rey's attention. She turned to face him, the hair that had escaped her shawl was tangled and knotted and he could see now her dusted face was streaked as evidence as where the tears had fallen. Ben's heart skipped. He swallowed.

"Join me."

. . .

 _"Please."_

She stared at his open hand. Words and excuses were running thin and had been for some time. The memory of Toota's disheartened eyes briefly swept across her consciousness. What did she have to lose now?

This galaxy was full of strange and unusual happenings - legends her heart always ached to be a part of – but the opportunity was here, why did she now hesitate? Ben's broad figure towered over, however she still felt as though he was at her mercy while he waited with bated breath for her answer. At the sight of his brown, pleading eyes, sudden warmth spread from the pit of her stomach to the top of her head. This was it.

Yet - as unexpected as this all was, it still felt familiar. Somehow. Rey struggled to place a finger on it.

Her skin prickled as the air surrounded them became electric, as if the universe already anticipated what her answer would be.

She didn't speak another word: her only reply was placing her hand confidently in his.

* * *

 _An invisible red thread connects all those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break_

* * *

 **A/N:** This was my first attempt at an AU and it was originally meant to be a one-shot, but as you can see, I got a LITTLE bit carried away. I really want to push out a couple more stories before their fate is sealed in IX but, alas, we will see!

Please, please let me know what you all think! If there is anyone still out there...

xox rose


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